


Bad Day for No Reason

by a_mind_at_work



Series: Anxiety Laf [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8843107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_mind_at_work/pseuds/a_mind_at_work
Summary: This is something that I have personally struggled with a lot, and I feel like having anxiety for no "reason" is not at all represented in media, so I hope this brings you kiddos some comfort in knowing you are not alone.
As always, come chill with me on Tumblr! @undiscoveredstory (more fanfics await you there!)





	

_Wake up_  
Wake up  
Wake up  
Wakeup  
Wakeup  
waKEUP  
WAKEUP  
WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP

Lafayette bolted up in his bed, panting even though he’d just been lying down. He glanced at his clock. It was 7:03 on a Saturday morning. He’d gone to be sometime after midnight, and had really been hoping he’d be able to sleep in. But he’d already been lying there, awake, trying to sleep, for at least twenty minutes. All it did was make him more anxious, though he had no idea why.

So he got up. He shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom, where he splashed cool water on his face and scrubbed his favorite soap all over his cheeks, forehead, and nose, hoping it would wash away the senseless anxiety he was feeling.

He rinsed his face again then patted it dry. He may have cleaned out the grime that had collected overnight in his pores, but the anxiety was still there, festering just below the surface.

He looked at himself in the mirror, half of his face invisible to him, since he hadn’t bothered to turn on the light and what little light shone through the window didn’t reach far. He stared into his own eyes and took deep, even breaths.

_inhale one two three four five six seven_  
hold one two three four five  
exhale one two three four five six seven

He repeated this three times, and felt momentarily better, but it wasn’t enough. He swallowed hard. That choking feeling he sometimes got in his throat was already creeping its way up, wrapping itself around him.

Distraction. He just had to distract himself from it, then he’d be fine.

Normally he loved to bake, but the invisible serpent wrapped around his throat made him feel too nauseous to do so at the moment. He had nothing to prepare for later in the day, either. No friends were coming over, he didn’t have to go anywhere with George or Martha… It was just a normal day. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. Why was he feeling this way?

Lafayette slipped back into his room, passing Alex’s doorway on his way there. Even though the door was shut, he was certain that his adoptive brother was sleeping, since he’d been sending memes to the group chat until about four am. He probably wouldn’t see Alexander until at least noon. But even then, Alex and John were going on a date later in the day, and Herc was in Philadelphia visiting family for the weekend. With the Schuyler girls still at boarding school, Laf found himself truly alone; there were no friends  around to help distract him from his anxious thoughts.

But that was fine. He was used to handling himself.

Once he was back in his room, Laf pulled out the coloring book Herc had gotten him for his last birthday. It was a flower themed one, since Laf loved gardening. He’d already colored in about half of it at random, so he flipped through it until he found a particularly challenging page–– one with lots of smaller spaces to fill in–– in the hopes that needing to concentrate more on what he was doing would distract him from his thoughts.

For a while, he felt better. For a while, all he could think of was which color he should choose next, would this shade of blue clash with the surrounding colors, what should the larger flower petals in the center look like… For a while he was transported away from what he was feeling.

But then the drawing was finished, and his hand was too cramped for another one. He admired his handiwork for a moment before sighing and shutting the book.

The choking feeling had wrapped around his throat again. Something inside of him was buzzing, telling him to _go go GO_ though he had no idea where he was supposed to go or why he needed to go anywhere at all.

He stood up, legs shaking ever so slightly, and listened for any signs of life in the house. It was still quiet. He took a deep breath.

Maybe he needed to jog it out.

So Laf changed out of his pajamas and into sweats, a t-shirt with the French flag on it, and his slip-on sneakers. He quietly made his way down the stairs, pocketed his house key, and did a few stretches in the driveway before taking off in a slow jog down the road.

He soon fell into a rhythm, his footsteps spelling out the phrase that was buzzing around his head: _outrun, outlast, hit it quick get out fast…_

He still didn’t know what he was outrunning, but he kept running. He kept running until his legs felt all rubbery and he had to stop for a moment, hands on his knees, panting. He focused on the raw feeling in his throat, which was momentarily replacing the choking one that had gripped him all morning.

He slowly jogged the rest of the way home. When he got back to the Washington’s mansion, he was thoroughly exhausted. He unlocked the door and was planning on slinking back up the stairs to his room, but George was in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee, just opening up the newspaper.

“Ahh, good morning, Gilbert,” he said, setting down the newspaper to greet his son. “You already went out for a morning run?”

“Oui,” Laf said, smiling at George.

“You must be hungry. Want me to make my famous waffles?”

Laf’s stomach said yes, but the choking feeling that was wrapping its way around his throat again said _no_.

“I am going to take a rest first,” he said quietly, then disappeared before George could say anything else.

Once he was back in his room, he collapsed onto his bed, hand automatically going to his throat, as if he could somehow rip the feeling off of him. Tears of frustration and exhaustion welled up in his eyes.

Was this going to be the rest of his life? How would he be able to do anything worthwhile if he felt this way all of the time?

Just then, there was a gentle knock on his door. “Sweetie?”

“Mama,” Laf called out.

Martha opened the door and took in the sight of her son, curled up on his bed. She sighed, her eyes sad, and sat down next to him, one hand rubbing circles on his back.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Papa said you weren’t hungry after a run?”

Laf shook his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he whispered. “I just woke up feeling bad, feeling anxious, and it won’t go away, no matter what I do.” He sniffled.

Martha wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” she said, kissing the crown of his head. “It’s okay to have a bad day. You’ve got me and Papa and Alex and all of your friends to support you, okay?”

Laf stiffly nodded. Martha hugged him tightly for a moment before loosening her grip.

“Food can help, sweetheart, so how about some buttered toast and juice?”

Laf took a deep breath. _I am okay,_ he said to himself. _I am not alone. I will get through this._

“Okay, oui, thank you, Mama,” he said. He finally wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder.

He knew she couldn’t expel the anxiety from his veins, but she could help, so long as he let her. And she truly wanted to help. So Laf let her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I have personally struggled with a lot, and I feel like having anxiety for no "reason" is not at all represented in media, so I hope this brings you kiddos some comfort in knowing you are not alone.
> 
> As always, come chill with me on Tumblr! @undiscoveredstory (more fanfics await you there!)


End file.
